So Iâ€™ve had a busy weekend! I finished work on Friday to find out that 2 friends are on their way up to see us for the night. I didnâ€™t mind this but would have preferred another time when my ankles and feet werenâ€™t representing the population of Elephants in Africa! So, we sat and talked, I cooked a lovely dinner (only because I am really picky with what I eat and my other half is about to pull his hair out over this). So a lovely starter of dates wrapped in bacon with cherry sauce, followed but Chicken in a 4 cheese Italian sauce, which tagatelli, it was lovely! So we headed out to a local nightclub and had a good time but by 2am, I wanted to sit and put my feet up, which I did. One of the clubâ€™s staff approached me and asked if I needed a doctor, I stared at him Blankley and asked why he pointed out that my ankle and foot were so swollen that it look like I had broken it. I had to chuckle to myself and said not to worry, I am pregnant and itâ€™s all part of the journey. So, eventually we got home and had a well deserved sleep, only to wake up 5 hours later to head off to work! This self employed lark ainâ€™t half fun you know! But the fun didnâ€™t begin there! My other half went out to Ayia Napa Saturday night with some friends, which meant I finally got a night in on my own to relax. So off I went to the kitchen to make a sandwich and grab as much junk food as possible (am allowed to eat it, baby says so!) and head off and crash on the sofa for the Saturday night film. However, plans changed, I was making a sandwich and I noticed something crawling on the kitchen floor, I looked (wish I hadnâ€™t) and the granddaddy of all cockroaches was paying my home a visit! Oh, I screamed, jumped and ran again! Only to stop and realise â€˜you ainâ€™t coming into my house you little fecker!â€™. Returning to the kitchen, armed with insect spray, a fly squatter and a plastic container, I was on a mission to rid my home of this disgusting thing! He was hiding under the kitchen table, so I slowly inched a chair away, each time I moved, the flipping thing moved a cm to! Eventually, he tried to make a break for the door; I put my rugby non-skills to the test and jumped him! However, he was that big that the plastic container started to move but I managed to throw him out. Not knowing how the fell a flipping kaffa (another word for them in French/African) got into my home, I starting cleaning for the 2nd time that day, only to realise that heâ€™d managed to squeeze under the kitchen veranda door! I have to say, my other half was laughing his head off when he heard the story! Grrrrrrrrrr! Copied from blogs (original entry) - post comments here.